


across the void

by saintberry



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, is it fluff is it angst? maybe it's both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 03:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20614376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintberry/pseuds/saintberry
Summary: The Twelfth Doctor suddenly finds himself watching the story of a lifetime. Quite literally.





	across the void

**Author's Note:**

> I love Twelve. I love Tenrose. That is all.

When he’d sealed the breach, the parallel Earth – Pete’s World – had been sealed off. Forever. Gone. No way there, no way back.

Well, that was the theory.

It’s a dull Monday the first time he discovers that, like many great scientists, he’s wrong. Clara’s teaching Shakespeare, and the squaddie is no doubt somewhere ruining people’s lives, and so he’s stuck rattling around the TARDIS. He’s sitting reading War and Peace when it suddenly goes dark, and the TARDIS lurches violently. He’s thrown from his seat, hitting the floor with a thump. He’s helpless as the TARDIS continues to throw him around, before they finally land with a crashing sound.

“What was that about?!” he asks her out loud, receiving a groan in response. “Oh, you’re complaining, are you? I should be complaining! Thrown out of my seat during a perfectly good book! What’s wrong with you, eh?”

He hits some buttons and switches, managing to get the lights back on and the TARDIS to relax a little.

“That’s better. You take a break,” he strokes the console fondly, before skipping towards the doors. “Now… where are we?”

He throws the doors open with a flourish, disappointed to find himself on an ordinary suburban street. He looks around, glances down, and then up – and there’s a violent tug in his gut when he notices that the sky is filled with zeppelins.

“Oh, no. No, no. That’s not possible.”

The doors fall shut behind him as he ducks down, sonic out, scanning the ground. It’s pavement, ordinary pavement, but it’s the pavement of Pete’s World. As he straightens up again, the Doctor feels sick.

He has no idea how he’s here. He has no idea why, either. This is ordinary suburbia, a residential area, a few nice terrace houses and a park at the end of the road. He wanders the streets, confused, disorientated – his two hearts beating hard, threatening to tear at the loose stitches that had held him together since he'd last been here.

He resolves to head back to the TARDIS, only a few streets over, when a family rounds a corner. In a pushchair is a baby, a little girl sucking on her thumb, and two boys – one who appears to be in his early teens, and another much younger – dart in front of the pram, chasing each other with imaginary weapons.

That’s not what the Doctor is really focused on, though. Instead, all he can see is the woman pushing the chair. Because for all his wishing and hoping, he really didn’t think he’d ever see Rose Tyler again.

She looks happy. Fussing over the baby, cautioning the boys, pushing the pram with a confidence. She looks settled, and content. And she looks beautiful.

Everything after that happens in slow motions. The baby starts crying, and Rose looks down, fussing over her blankets, shifting her toys around. As she does, a car rounds the corner, and the two boys – the older one pretending to shoot the younger – run off the curb.

Instinct takes over. Before the car can get there, the Doctor does. The older boy has frozen in horror, but the Doctor grabs the younger one, dragging him out of the way. The horn of the car shrieks at the same time that Rose does, and then she’s crying, and the baby’s crying, and the boy in the Doctor’s arms is crying too.

“Michael!” she shouts, leaving the buggy on the pavement and stomping over to him. The Doctor releases the child, and he falls into Rose’s arms. “What have I told you about the road?!” For all her anger, she cradles him to her, and turns to the older child, still standing there, just off the kerb, staring in terror. “And you, Toby! You’re older, you should know better! What’re your mum and dad gunna say, eh?”

Rose is fussing over the little boy, brushing his hair back, kissing his forehead, whispering words of comfort. All the Doctor can do is stare. He hasn’t been this close to Rose Tyler for hundreds of years, yet all he can notice is that the boy in her arms looks remarkably like the man he once was. One life. He really was living it with her.

Jealousy surges through him, pathetic jealousy, white and hot and gripping his hearts, and he stands up, eyes focused on the space above Rose’s head. The movement jolts her, and she looks up from where she’s cradling her son.

“You saved him. Oh my god, you saved him. He’d be gone without you. What – what can I do to ever thank you?”

“Nothing, nothing – please. It’s fine. Just… glad he’s okay.”

Rose shakes her head, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. The Doctor has to resist forcing his arm away. He doesn’t know what would hurt more – if she recognised him now, or if she remained just as clueless.

“Please, you have to let me do something. Dinner, or – I don’t know.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I insist.” The Doctor shuffles uncomfortably, but then Rose is thrusting the boy in her arms forward.

“Michael, say thank you to the man. – Oh, what’s your name?”

His answer is automatic, but he cringes the moment he says it, “John.”

“That’s my husband’s name. God – I have to tell him about this. He’s going to be so upset,” she looks briefly distraught for a moment again, and then shakes her son lightly. “Thank John, Michael.”

The little boy looks up at him with shining eyes – his eyes – and a pathetic sniffle.

“Thank you.”

The Doctor nods slightly, and then tries to stumble out some excuses to leave. Rose is insistent, tugging on his sleeve, trying to get his number. She invites him back to dinner another three times, but the Doctor refuses, wanting nothing more than to get away. He knows the other him would know, and he can’t stand for any of them to realise who he is.

Eventually, more concerned for her son than some stranger, Rose lets it drop. She keeps a firm hold on Michael’s hand as they walk, instructing her brother to push the pram the rest of the way home.

As the Doctor slips away back to his TARDIS, he doesn’t envy Toby Tyler and the bollocking he’s going to get from his mother.

-

Despite all the laws of physics that the Doctor knows, it keeps happening. Every so often, the TARDIS goes crazy, and he ends up in Pete’s World. Usually, it’s uneventful. He passes Rose in the street. He kicks Toby Tyler’s football back to him. He watches Rose Tyler pick her daughter up from a sleepover.

It feels weird to him. He’s lived so many years without her, loved others, each so different and so brilliant, and yet here he is, creeping on her life. On their life. He never sees himself – the TARDIS seems to keep him away – and yet he’s like a voyeur, watching what he could have had – what he does have.

He’s passing a pub when the doors open and light spills out, along with a bunch of very loud, very drunk men. There seems to be a fight going on – shouting and shoving, curse words exchanged and threats yelled at each other.

It takes him a few moments to recognise Toby Tyler, now twenty. He’s different to how the Doctor would have imagined. Short, cropped hair, muscular arms, and all the ferocity his sister has. He’s shouting something, and as he steps forward, another man takes a swing at him.

Toby stumbles back, before launching forward to jump on the other man. The Doctor realises he’s here – somehow – to stop this, because with the way the other guy is swinging, Toby isn’t going to fare well.

Squaring his shoulders, the Doctor decides to act. With force, he jumps between them, pushing them apart and into the arms of their friends.

“Hey, hey!” he shouts, and the crowd goes quiet. “What makes you think you can fight in front of my pub?! Get off my property, both of you!”

He’s as angry and Scottish as he can manage, and Toby’s opponent is promptly dragged off by his friends. Toby is more resistant.

“Scottish bastard!” Toby mutters, freeing himself from his friends. The Doctor isn’t surprised to see that he’s drunk. “He insulted my sister! Called her a bunch of shit, threatened her, too!”

“I’m sure your sister is fine without you needing to stand up for her.”

The Doctor’s reply makes Toby frown, and then he’s peering at him, leaning over to poke his chest.

“Do I know you? Are you famous?”

The Doctor just steps away. “No, you don’t know me. And no, I’m not famous.”

They’re both lies, but he escapes before he can explain.

-

It’s kind of nice, really. He gets to see their kids grow up. Gets to watch Rose grow old, the way he always intended to.

They have another little girl, a few years after their first daughter. Michael, Ella, and Harriet. Their children. His, but not really.

He’s there for all the important things. The day Michael starts big school, wearing a blazer, sleeves covering his hands, the Doctor is in the playground, watching as proudly as his actual parents. He runs into Rose briefly at one of Harriet’s ballet recitals, and watches Ella unpack her new room at university.

The TARDIS knows, somehow, when and where they’re going to be. Sometimes, he wonders if Rose – or the children – recognise him, but they never say anything, and he keeps whatever distance he can.

The first time he sees himself is at Jackie Tyler’s funeral. He sneaks into the back, next to people he doesn’t recognise, and listens to the service with a distant sadness. Pete’s there, sandwiched between his children, and the Doctor thinks that Jackie would have preferred it this way round. For all her strength, she’s lost her husband once – living without him again wouldn’t have been fair.

And he’s there, too. His arm around Rose, another around one of his daughters. It’s weird to be seeing the back of his own aged head, but the Doctor pushes it away, focusing on being here – sort of – for Rose.

He thinks he recognises himself. At one point, he – the other him – turns around, seeks him out in the crowd. The Doctor just gazes back, and the other him frowns. Before he can do or say anything, Rose sobs, and then his attention is on his wife once again.

The next time he turns around, the Doctor is already halfway to the TARDIS.

-

He doesn’t make it to Pete’s funeral. Instead, he gets dropped by his grave, discovering he died six months ago. The Doctor finds a local flower shop and buys two bouquets, one for Pete and one for Jackie, buried next to him, and heads back to the graveyard. When he gets there, Rose is there, alone, placing flowers on her parents’ graves.

She spots him before he can get away, raising a solemn hand in greeting. He just nods in return, placing the flowers at the nearest grave before promptly walking off. The more he visits, the more afraid he is that she’s going to recognise him, one way or another.

The next death is his own. Well, not his own – the other him. The Doctor skips years here and there, watching the children grow into adults, lurking in the background at their weddings, catching glimpses of their children – his kind-of grandchildren – as they pass him in the park. Really, the Doctor should have known something was coming. Everything was too peaceful to go right for so long.

Rose is 77 when he dies. He only had one life, but he fulfilled his promise of spending it with her. The Doctor is back in the same graveyard, staring this time at his own name.

John Smith. Loving husband, father, and grandfather. Still having adventures, somewhere out there.

It’s true, except that somewhere out there is here, and the Doctor feels like a completely different person to the John Smith who’s buried beneath his feet. They may have once shared the same face, but their lives split so completely. He got the TARDIS. The other him got Rose Tyler. He’s not completely sure who got the best deal.

Rose approaches him before he even realises she’s there.

“Hi,” she’s at his shoulder, placing flowers delicately on her husband’s grave. She’s old and frail now, fingers stiff and legs slow, but she’s still Rose Tyler to him. “Did you know him? My husband?”

For once, he tells the truth.

“A long time ago.”

It has been a long time. For him, and for her. Hundreds of years of adventure, versus a lifetime of happiness and family.

The other him definitely got the better deal.

Rose places a sympathetic hand on his arm, before she frowns.

“Do I know you? I feel like I’ve seen around before.”

“No, no, you don’t.” It’s a lie, again. Of course she does. “I just live locally. You’ll have seen me in passing.”

He shrugs Rose’s hand away, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry about your husband. You were together a long time. That’s very commendable.”

Rose manages a smile, resting her hand on his tombstone.

“We were. He promised me his life, and he gave me it.”

There’s an ache in the Doctor’s hearts.

“I’m sure he was glad to.”

-

He only visits one more time. When the TARDIS drops him outside of a hospital, he knows this is it. The end of their story. The last time he will see Rose Tyler. For real.

He asks for her at the desk and climbs the stairs slowly. Through everything, this still pains him. To be here, saying goodbye. God, he hates goodbyes.

She’s alone in her room when he enters. She’s 83 now. That’s six years without him. But still – he’s here for the end. The way he always knew he would be.

“Rose?” he says gently, taking her hand. There’s no need to pretend anymore. She looks at him with tired eyes, recognition flickering somewhere in their depths. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

“You saved Michael. When he was six. And – Toby, when he got in a fight. And – you were there. You were always there.”

The Doctor nods, squeezing her hand as gently as he can.

“You’re him, aren’t you? It’s you. The other you, with the TARDIS.”

He nods again, and Rose’s eyes fill with tears.

“How?” she whispers.

This time, he shakes his head.

“I don’t know. But I’ve been here, for all of it.”

It feels nice to tell the truth for once.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you were happy. And you had him, and his life, and I had the honour of seeing it all. And now I’m here. So you don’t need to be scared. I’m with you.”

Rose nods, her frail fingers tightening her grip on his hand.

“Are you happy? Are you still having adventures?”

The Doctor smiles, leaning back in his chair.

“Of course I am. Who do you take me for, Rose Tyler?”

She smiles, too, then – until a cough wracks her chest, and her grip on his hand loosens.

“I’m not scared. I thought I would be, but I’m not. I’m happy, too.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted.”

They sit in silence for a long time, content knowing they’re together for this. After another coughing fit, Rose leans back, her eyes distant as she tries to find the Doctor’s.

“I love you,” she whispers, her eyes falling shut.

The Doctor ducks down to press a kiss to her wrinkled hand, trying to keep the grief from overwhelming him. He’s lost Rose Tyler forever so many times. But this is it. He knows this is it. And if it's his last chance to say it -

“I love you, too.”

Ten minutes later and Rose’s heart monitor slows, fluttering to a halt. He’s holding her hand tightly when she stops squeezing back, and then he’s just gripping it for the two of them.

Before her family – their family – can turn up to say goodbye, he slips out of the room. A final press of his lips to her forehead and he’s said goodbye to Rose Tyler forever.

Like the other him, she only had one life. But they spent it together. And in the last moments, the Doctor was honoured enough to spend them with her.

He walks out of the hospital numb, into the comforting embrace of the TARDIS. His little ship defied every law of physics for this, but it – Rose Tyler – was worth it.


End file.
